Sense and Sanity
by Beena-Pani
Summary: [Complete] Before Camp Green Lake. It's a romance... involving Zigzag. Go figure.
1. Prologue

Sense and Sanity 

By: Beena-Pani 

**Disclaimer: **I think you all know that I don't own anything from _Holes_, because all of that stuff was thought up by Louis Sachar and not me.

**Rating:** PG for mild language and mild violence.

**Pairing:** Zigzag/OC

**Summary:** Before Camp Green Lake. It's a romance... involving Zigzag. Go figure.

~*~

**Prologue**

            They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Yet, so much money and time is spent on beauty. Why is that money and time not spent on the eye of the beholder?

            If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then why do so many girls complain that they are fat and starve themselves? Why do so many people pay to make their features 'perfect'? Is it not true that for beauty to be in the eye of the beholder, the beholder should be looking for beauty?

            We are all beholders, and we still believe that for someone to be beautiful they must fit a certain image. The same speakers who tell us that we should be ourselves, because that is where true beauty lies, are the ones who waste hours on their makeup, hair, and clothes. They make sure that those beholding them will find beauty, so that we will listen. It is very pathetic, when we will only listen and take into consideration those who we find beautiful. And that those we find beautiful are the ones who are telling us that beauty is only skin-deep, and that we should look on the inside, and judge by what we find there.

            But how can we learn that, when we are mesmerized by the outer covering of this speaker?    The same one who has told us that it matters not what we look like. Who would listen and understand that meaning, when he or she is only listening because of what that person looks like?

            This is the story of how one certain beholder trained his eye to find the beauty in someone he thought far from beautiful.

~*~

Author's Note: This is the new prologue. Now it's more of a prologue, and not just a first chapter. In case you missed reading the first version, I'll just repeat what I said: Totally negative reviews will do nothing but mutilate and then kill my ego. Positive reviews make me happy. Constructive criticism will make me better at writing.


	2. Chapter One: Eleanor Jones

Disclaimer: Same as before.  
  
Author's Note: I UPDATED! YAY! And I'm still reading 'Order of the Phoenix'! And school ends this Wednesday! I'm so happy! JUST THREE MORE DAYS! I'll be able to update sooner, which is good. Very good. On with the chapter...  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter 1  
  
'She is a great reader of books and has no pleasure in anything else.'-Mr Bingley, from 'Pride and Prejudice'  
  
For normal people, Wednesday is just another day. The only people who don't fit into the 'normal people' category are optimists, who will tell you that Wednesday, just like every other day is wonderful and should be savoured, because you never know how many Wednesdays you'll be around to see, and pessimists, who will tell you that Wednesday, just like every other day is awful and you should get through it as quickly as possible, just so you can have one less Wednesday you'll be around to see. Ricky was a pessimist, and therefore hated the idea of having to live through yet another Wednesday. You couldn't blame him, though. Every Wednesday after school, he had to get 'a little extra help in math' from Eleanor Jones. That's what she described it as, but Ricky just called it 'tutoring'. There was no need to make it sound any better than it did. Not that Eleanor's description made it any more pleasant.  
  
Eleanor was a quiet, studious girl who never broke any rules, and so most of the other kids at school never even acknowledged that she existed. Ricky only knew about her because she tutored him. She read any book she could get her hands on. Books were everything to her. She couldn't live without them. Several times, Ricky had spotted her reading during especially boring lessons that even she couldn't handle. Most of the time, she read 'Pride and Prejudice'. She may have loved books, but she worshipped 'Pride and Prejudice'.  
  
Her copy of the book had a few pages falling out and a slightly musty smell to it. She carried it everywhere, cradling it in her arms or carrying it in her bag, wedged tightly between two other novels so that it wouldn't be damaged. Ricky had never read it, or even heard of it before he met Eleanor. Other than him, no one spoke to Eleanor or even acknowledged that she existed. Eleanor didn't seem to mind; as long as she had 'Pride and Prejudice', she was fine.  
  
He sat down next to her when he entered the room, and wished he could be anywhere else. Being tutored wasn't fun. It was a constant reminder of how you weren't doing that great in school. Being tutored by Eleanor Jones wasn't fun, either, but she was the only girl (well, person, actually) who would speak to him. Still, that didn't mean she wasn't annoying at times - she was.  
  
"Hi," he said , "Sorry I'm late." Actually, he wasn't late. He just said it without thinking.  
  
"It's alright," she replied quietly. Next to nothing had changed about her- she still had dark hair, eyes and skin. Her hair was still pulled back in a ponytail with a purple hair elastic, and she still had 'Pride and Prejudice' beside her on the table.  
  
"Well," she said as Ricky took out his textbook. "Let's get to work." she told him to go to a certain page and began explaining something about angles. Ricky followed along as much as he could. Everything went as usual, so there's no need to write about it in great detail.  
  
"Ricky, do you think that," Eleanor swung her book bag over her shoulder, pausing for a second before continuing, "you're ready for that test on Friday?"  
  
"Uh..." He had forgotten about the test until now.  
  
"Well, if you aren't sure, you can meet me tomorrow after school at the public library, OK?" she gave him a small smile snd turned on her heel, heading for he doorway. Ricky wasn't too thrilled with having to spend even more time on this sort of stuff tomorrow. He sighed and picked up his bag, walking out of the room as Eleanor had done a few seconds ago. Oh well, one extra day couldn't be that bad. What was the worst that could happen?  
  
Ricky was going to find out the next afternoon. 


	3. Chapter Two: The Meeting

Disclaimer: Ricky belongs to Louis Sachar. Can you believe it?  
  
Author's Note: HAPPY CANADA DAY! **waves a Canadian flag** OK, that was yesterday (or the day before yesterday, since it's 12:01 AM right now). July 1st. Heehee.... O CANADA! OUR HOME AND NATIVE LAND-- OK, I'll stop. Oh, and one more thing: I'm over my Zigzag obsession, so this chapter might not be very good, although it's very long (mostly because of the description of library. What can I say? I like books!). I'm kind of mad at him right now. Not really, but kind of. Well, that's all. On with the story!  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter 2  
  
'Today is the tomorrow we worried about yesterday.'--Anonymous  
  
As the day had been uneventful so far, Ricky had spent it wondering why Eleanor of all people had offered to give up her free time to be with another human being. She never spoke to anyone if she didn't have to, but she had said a whole sentence to him without any 'um's or 'uh's. It was... creepy. One day she's silent, and the next she's asking him to meet her at the public library! Maybe she was planning to kill him when he got there and-- He banged his head against his desk while muttering, "Don't be stupid!"  
  
The whole class turned around in their seats and a few snickered and whispering things like "Psycho," or "Crazy," while the rest just looked frightened. Ricky really didn't care-- he had just learned that banging your head against a desk looked a whole lot better in cartoons and what they were saying or thinking didn't seem too important. They already thought he was a nutcase, so why should he care if he received a few strange looks?  
  
"Are you all right, Ricky?" the teacher asked, looking a little worried as well.  
  
"Yes, ma'am." He didn't know why he called teachers 'sir' or 'ma'am'. That was just one of the many reasons people thought he was weird. He had always done it, probably for a reason when he was younger, but now it was just a habit. The teacher gave a tiny sigh, turned back to the board, and returned to what she had been doing. Before he could start contemplating what had caused Eleanor to act so strangely again, he forced himself to pay attention. After all, this was Math class and he would never have had to go to the library after school today if he had only paid attention earlier.  
  
Unfortunately, paying attention meant having to ignore what the others were saying about him and now that a few minutes had passed since when his head had connected with his desk, he did care what they were saying or thinking. They were always talking about him, but he could keep them out of his mind if he concentrated hard on something. Just like they kept him out of their little group of 'cool' people. It wasn't like he wanted to be in that group or anything, but being told that he was funny or smart or even just nice would be appreciated. The last time someone had told him he was funny was a few years ago, before they thought he was crazy. They had still thought he was weird, but at least they had been laughing with him, not at him.  
  
No one was staring at him now, they had all gone back to what they had been doing. Some were actually learning something from the lesson, some were sleeping, some were whispering to their friends. Probably whispering about him, but at least they weren't looking at him anymore.  
  
Or were they?  
  
He stopped trying to think about the lesson and became aware of someone with their eyes still on him. Trying to move as little as possible, he looked around the classroom and saw Eleanor quickly look down at her desk when their eyes met. Why had she been watching him? Maybe it was one of those girl things.  
  
"I will never understand girls..." he muttered, so quietly he wasn't sure if he had said it or thought it. Girls were one of those things that gave you a headache if you thought about them too much. Ricky knew a lot of those things and had had a lot of headaches because of them. He urged himself once again to go back to the lesson. Only two nights ago he had given himself a migraine and he wasn't interested in repeating that.  
  
He sighed, loud enough for the people sitting next to him to notice, but not loud enough for the teacher to ask him if he was all right again. He had, for about the millionth time that day, confused himself.  
  
~*~  
  
The library was never packed, but it was also never empty. You could always count on at least two or three people to be sitting at the tables or browsing through the shelves. The section that was the most crowded was the children's section where little kids were always pulling picture book after picture book from the shelves and dashing to a chair to read or rushing to give their parents what they were carrying to make room for more in their arms. A few adults could be seen every now and then in their section, delicately picking up a paperback novel and flipping through it to see if it interested them. They were the opposite of the younger readers: they were careful when they selected their book and were even more careful when handling what they picked, while little kids would pick any book at random no matter if it interested them or not and flipped the pages quickly, sometimes tearing them.  
  
The tables and armchairs that sat in their own corner were usually occupied by teenagers who needed somewhere quiet to do their homework. The chairs were comfortable and pretty new, the library had only got them in February. Now it was June, and the chairs seemed to have survived those few months. There were no holes poked in them and they were free of stains. The tables, however, were much older and had quite a few messages scratched into them. Several wads of gum had been stuck under the tabletop. It was strange, seeing the chairs, in perfect condition, sitting next to the tables that were anything but in perfect condition.  
  
In general, the library was neat and tidy, not brand new like the chairs and not ancient like the tables, but clean. You could easily find a book on any subject, and there hardly were any missing pages. Occasionally, you could see a small rip, (usually in the children's books) but it was nothing huge. Somehow, whenever somone took a book off the shelf, it was always returned to the right spot, just as it had been, as though the book had some sort of control over their mind.  
  
That was what Ricky thought, at least, as he made his way through the aisles and into the slightly cramped corner where the new armchairs and old tables were. Eleanor, of course, was already sitting there. She seemed to have been there for quite a while, judging by the large bag filled with books sitting by her side. A book called 'The Subtle Knife' was being held tightly in her hands, and she only realised Ricky was there when he shook her not-so-gently by the shoulders.  
  
"Hey, Eleanor, I'm here," he whispered. Not only did you feel responsible for the books when you entered the library, but the urge to speak at even a normal volume left you immediately as well.  
  
"Nora," she corrected, but he guessed she didn't think he heard her, because she then said, "Oh, um, uh, hi." She put down her book. "Um... I'll be right back in a few minutes, OK?" Without waiting for a reply, she walked towards the washroom and out of sight.  
  
Ricky picked up a book from her bag and read the back. It was called 'Tailchaser's Song' and it looked kind of weird, but maybe girls liked it. Girls liked a lot of weird things. Well, not all weird things. Girls might have liked books about cats going on magical quests, like this book, but girls didn't like him. He was weird, but apparently it was a bad kind of weird. Maybe cats going on magical quests weren't weird to girls, but he was. Maybe girls didn't like things that were weird to them, but things that were weird to boys. Maybe--  
  
Luckily, he was saved from further thoughts about girls because one sat down beside him and opened the textbook on the table. Unluckily, she never found the page she was looking for. Eleanor's --or, Nora's-- expression changed from pleasant to sour in a few seconds.  
  
"Where," she said icily, "Is my book?" Ricky stared at her, then pointed to 'Tailchaser's Song', which was right in front of her. He assumed that was what she meant, because he hadn't put it back in the bag.  
  
"I meant 'Pride and Prejudice'." she crossed her arms and glared. Ricky stared at her, but this time from surprise, not confusion.  
  
"You're without it? Isn't that defying some law of nature or someting?" She continued to glower at him.  
  
"Where is it, Ricky?" Another thing that shocked him was how much she was talking. He had thought that her two sentences yesterday had been amazing!  
  
"I..." he wondered if all guys went through this sort of thing, being confused by girls, that is. "I dunno."  
  
"OK, sure, whatever." She put away her stuff, not looking at him. Her hands were shaking slightly.  
  
She got up, and, still not meeting his eyes, headed for the door.  
  
"Eleanor-- Nora-- whatever you want me to call you, where're you goin'?" he asked as loudly as he could. The girl tripped and fell head-over- heels, landing face down on the ground and giving a shriek, somehow quietly, as she fell. The librarian walked by, looking disapproving.  
  
"Sorry," Eleanor mumbled, getting up and brushing herself off. Turning around, she said, "I am going away from you." She then sent him a final glare and stormed out of the library. Ricky walked to the exit and watched as she ran until he couldn't see her anymore. He soon left as well. As he stepped outside, he shook his head sadly.  
  
"Girls," he muttered under his breath. Girls, like cats going on magical quests, were pretty weird.  
  
~*~  
  
Author's Note: Reviews! YAY! I got reviews! **does a happy dance** Thanks to the two people who reviewed my story, you make me feel special! Of course, one of them is my friend, but who cares? Not me! I've got the third chapter written up in my mind, so I'll update soon! 


	4. Chapter Three: Twat Um?

Disclaimer: I don't own Ricky, or Keith Barrenger (I think that's how you spell his name...). Remember him? He was mentioned in the movie. You know, the part that goes: Caveman: You see the inscription on it? K.B.? Zigzag: Yea, that's Keith Barrenger. Magnet: Man, who is that? Zigzag: He was in my math class. Yep, he's in this chapter. And now you can read it...  
  
Chapter 3  
  
'My good opinion once lost is lost forever.'--The infamous Mr Darcy, from 'Pride and Prejudice'  
  
The very next day, 'Pride and Prejudice' was being carried in Eleanor's arms as she sat down at her desk. She seemed to be trying to shrink, sliding slowly off her chair as Ricky looked at her. The book she was holding was definitely the same one she always had had before, she couldn't have possibly gotten a new copy. When Ricky asked her where she had found it, her reply sounded something like "Twat um".  
  
Ricky didn't bother to ask her what that meant, he never understood half of what she said. Twat um was probably the name of someone who had taken her book. Of course, it only sounded like 'twat um'. Today, he was able to finish his test and actually feel confident that he had passed because he was sure that what he had heard as 'twat' was actually 'Matt'. He knew a Matt. When he had finished writing his test, he suddenly wondered why Eleanor had offered to give him extra help if he already knew what to do without being taught anything yesterday. He just told himself what he had concluded yesterday: girls were weird. Just like grass is green, the sky is blue, and water is wet. It was a fact.  
  
Still, what had she meant by 'twat um'? Now that he thought about it, he DIDN'T know a Matt. Eleanor probably didn't know a Matt. And 'twat' didn't sound that much like 'Matt'! When he realized that, several more questions popped up in his head.  
  
What if she still thought he took the book?  
  
Was that book she was holding even the same book?  
  
Did the book she had before have a stain on the front?  
  
Did the one she have now have a stain on the front?  
  
And then, as suddenly as they came, the questions stopped. Only one thought remained:  
  
Why did he care? After all, it was only a book...  
  
He didn't like her or anything, did he?  
  
The colour drained from his face as someone collected his test. No way, he couldn't. He looked over at Eleanor, who still seemed to be trying to hide under her desk. She wasn't very pretty or anything-- she wasn't really thin like some other girls and her nose was rather large. And she wasn't the most pleasant person to be around, either, because she was always reading. It was a very annoying habit.  
  
He pushed that thought into a corner where it screamed at him, but he shut out the noise and returned to the earlier puzzle. What the hell was 'twat um'? Instead of even attempting to figure it out, his curiosity got the better of him and he asked her once again where the book had been found.  
  
"Twat um," Eleanor mumbled again.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Eleanor grumbled to herself and said, just audibly, "At home."  
  
Ricky gaped at her, unsure of what he had just heard. The thought he had shoved away was now being drowned out by anger. His hands were balled into fists and he could feel himself shaking. Eleanor was still trying to get under her desk, and jumped when the bell rang. She darted out of the door, but he caught up with her.  
  
"So, you forget your stupid little book at home, and then you--you-- you just BLAME ME?" He shouted hysterically at her. "The book's gone, so you just expect that I TOOK IT? Of course it was me, who else could it have been? I'm just a freak, I must have taken it! Who cares how I'll feel, it's all my fault!" Eleanor was looking at the floor.  
  
"I-I-I bu-bu- I--you--what--s-sorr--"  
  
"You're sorry?" He didn't care if she was crying or not, she deserved it. "I told you I was sorry, even though I didn't take the book, but you didn't care, did you?"  
  
"You never said you were sorry," She said quietly, looking up. She sniffed.  
  
"I did!"  
  
She didn't respond, but turned ran down the hall to her next class. Ricky stared after her, trying to decide what he should do.  
  
"Hey, Loony," called a voice from behind him. He whirled around to see a kid from his math class, Keith Barrenger. Keith never gave up the chance to stomp all over his self-confidence. "Why--" But Keith never got to finish his insult, because Ricky's fist connected with his face. Keith swore loudly and hit him back. He was much smaller, but managed to make Ricky fall over. Ricky got to his feet and felt someone pulling him back, away from the other boy.  
  
Both he and Keith received a detention, but Ricky couldn't care less. Keith had been asking for it.  
  
~*~  
  
School ended in a week. On the last day, he was thoroughly soaked from being squirted by water bottles. Why don't they just drink their water? They're always complaining about being thirsty, he thought to himself. Amazingly, his hair still stuck up, even though most of the water had been aimed at it. It was drooping slightly, but it didn't make that much of a difference. When the day finally ended, he was one of the first people to leave. He only stayed at home for a few minutes, before telling his mom that he was taking a walk.  
  
He didn't know exactly where he was going. He avoided crowds, but otherwise didn't care where he was. Somehow, walking made thinking easier. As he kicked a pebble absentmindedly, silently fuming at everyone he could think of, he thought he heard someone call his name.  
  
Immediately, his head jerked up and his eyes quickly darted from one side to the other. No one was there, he concluded, but his eyes were still wide and his hair was sticking straight out.  
  
"Hellooo?" he called, and saw someone running up to him. They were wearing all purple and were carrying a book in their arms...  
  
~*~  
  
Author's Note: I finally got a copy of 'Pride and Prejudice' from the library. Now I can start putting some quotes into the dialogue! Yay! I'm thinking of putting a quote at the beginning of every chapter, and not just in what they're saying. What do you think?  
  
May the peaches and onions be with you. 


	5. Chapter Four: The Letter

Disclaimer: I STILL don't own what Louis Sachar does. Amazing...  
  
Author's Note: This is kind of like chapter 35 of Pride ad Prejudice. I've reread it about five times now, so it was hard to avoid. Heh. I have the urge to make Ricky's last name Darcy...  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter 4  
  
"She had turned away; but on hearing herself called, though in a voice that proved it to be Mr Darcy, she moved again towards the gate. He had by that time reached it also, and, holding out a letter, which she instinctively took, said, with a look of haughty composure, 'I have been walking in the grove some time in hope of meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading me that letter?'"-Pride and Prejudice (chapter 35, as my note up there would suggest...)  
  
It took a few moments for Ricky to realize that the person running towards him was Nora. After all, she was that last person he had expected to see outside. He had thought that, other than school and going to the library, she never left home. But who else would be holding a book as though their life depended on it? And who else would have 'Pride and Prejudice' of all the books to choose from?  
  
He watched as she came closer, looking confused, as though she wasn't sure what sort of emotion her face should be showing.  
  
"Oh, um, hey, yeah.... I saw you out my window, because I, well, live over there," she pointed at a house not to far away. "I wanted to give you this," she pulled an envelope out of her pocket and shoved it into his hands. Ricky put it into his pocket and waited for her to speak. She didn't. There was a long silence, until she said,  
  
"Hey, um, well, what does... Well, I was wondering and, uh, um... what is... uh... What is Ricky short for?"  
  
He stared at her for a moment. "Richard."  
  
"Oh, that's very... uh.... nice." She took a few steps sideways, as if trying to escape, but then stopped and started giggling. "You... you know what.... what's short.... for Richard, don't you?" she gasped, trying to stop herself from laughing any harder.  
  
"Ricky?" Well, it was kind of obvious, wasn't it?  
  
"Yeah, but.... there's also..." she managed to stop laughing. "Dick."  
  
Ricky felt himself shaking, not unlike just before he had punched Keith Barrenger. But he couldn't hit a girl. "Don't call me that again."  
  
"Sorry, sorry..." she lost her ability to speak like a normal person and went back to adding 'um' and 'uh' after every few words. "I, um, have to go now, so, yeah, well, bye..." she grinned again and added, "Dickie." Without hesitating, she rose up on tiptoe and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Her eyes became wide. "Oh, I'm sorry, I seemed to have, uh, you know, well, um, collided with your face. Well, I have to, um, go now so, yeah, bye!" And with that, she ran. Ricky didn't bother looking where she went. He lifted his hand and touched his cheek where she had kissed him. No, she hadn't kissed him, she had just collided with his-- hey! He was about a foot taller than her! How could that have been an accident?  
  
It wasn't an accident, he told himself. It wasn't an accident. She had meant to kiss him. Because that was what had happened. She had kissed him.  
  
When that had sunk in, Ricky turned slowly around and walked. He wasn't sure where he was walking. A few minutes later, he was still deep in thought, but was pulled out of those thoughts by walking straight into a door. He must have walked home. Still not quite paying attention, he unlocked the door and walked inside. So... Nora had kissed him. His mouth was halfway through forming a smile when it became a frown. That was a bad thing. Yes, he decided, it was a bad thing. A very bad thing. Girls had cooties and that sort of stuff. Kissing was not good.  
  
Well, maybe it was good. It had felt nice when Nora kissed him. No, wait, it didn't. It had been awful. He never wanted to repeat the process again.  
  
But he did.  
  
No, he didn't.  
  
Yes, he did.  
  
No, he didn't.  
  
Yes, he did.  
  
No, he didn't infinity. Ha. Stupid voices. He hadn't liked it at all, and that was that.  
  
With that arguement settled, he ripped open the envolope and, heading up to his room, read the letter with his door locked.  
  
*Dear Ricky,  
  
I am sorry that I accused you of taking my book. It was stupid,*  
  
What stood out the most to him was that her writing was disgustingly neat and formal. He silently promised never to allow his handwriting to become like that.  
  
*but I had to come up with an excuse. You see, my parents found out that I was meeting you at the library and they freaked out. I am not allowed to spend any of my free time with the opposite sex anymore. Not that I ever was.  
  
I guess they have a reason to be so protective. Really, you didn't need any extra help, did you? I knew that you could do perfectly well on that test, which you did, and yet I offered to spend an entire afternoon reviewing math.  
  
That is truly why I am angry with you. I am not particularly fond of boys, but you still manage to disrupt my thoughts. I couldn't think about anything else. Imagine trying to think about... I don't know, whatever you males like. Well, just imagine that you're daydreaming or whatever, and then you start thinking of me. And you can't stop. That would get quite annoying, wouldn't it?  
  
Well, now you understand. At least, I hope you do.  
  
Sincerly,  
Nora Jones  
  
P.S. If you know of any method of getting out of my mind, please let me know.*  
  
Ricky's eyes scanned the paper, but he only remembered one sentence. It seemed to him that Nora had underlined that sentence, because he read it over and over again.  
  
You see, my parents found out I was meeting you at the library and they freaked out...  
  
He ripped the letter in half, as though that would make him forget about it. But it didn't. Her parents knew he had acute paranoia. That was why they wanted Nora to stay away from him.  
  
But he didn't care. After all, she was just a girl. And he really didn't care that she had kissed him.  
  
The voice that had told him this so strongly before now seemed tired and weak, as if begging him to believe it instead of forcing him to. He didn't care. She was just a girl. He didn't like her or anything. He didn't like her at all.  
  
... Right?  
  
Ricky ripped both pieces of paper in half again and threw them out. He needed to relax. There was only one thing he could think of doing. He opened his underwear drawer and took out a pack of cigarettes he had stolen from his father. His dad hadn't noticed, or just didn't mention it.  
  
Silently, he slipped outside, lit a cigarette, and took a long drag on it. He had started smoking a few months ago, hoping it would make him popular. It hadn't worked, and now he was addicted. But it calmed him down, and that was all he needed at the moment.  
  
He exhaled and looked up at the sky. It was getting late, but you couldn't tell because of the storm clouds. The entire sky seemed grey, although, had it been clear, it would soon be dark blue. He took another drag on his cigarette and felt something brush against his leg. His cat, named Cat (Ricky had never been very imaginative), purred as he put out the cigarette and stroked her fur. A raindrop landed on her nose and she jumped, surprised by what had just happened.  
  
Ricky laughed softly as picked up Cat and crept back inside, just as the rain started falling.  
  
~*~  
  
Author's Note: I want to think you reviewers. I simply adore you. If you hadn't noticed. Here's some shout outs or whatever you people call them:  
  
drowchild- Thanks for your reviews! They make me happy! Very happy! They(your reviews) are backwards-speaking! (It's a compliment...) Notice the exclamation marks! For spending your free (any maybe not-so-free) time on my story, I am giving you X-Ray's shovel!  
  
X-Ray: Hey! I liked that shovel!  
  
Totoro-Crazed- Hi, Grace. You're the strangest teacher I've ever been reviewed by! For spending YOUR free (any maybe-not-so free) time on my story, I am giving you Zero.  
  
Zero: Meep... **poof!** ("Meep... **poof**" belongs to Grace!)  
  
Aw, fictional characters tend to spontaneously combust a lot around me. Oh well, you can have my sanity (yes, I STILL have it, even though I've sold it to you about five times) FOR FREE! Feel free to do what you want with it. Zig says it's fun to burn sanity. I wouldn't know. You're the pyro.  
  
Shae Elven Heart: Peaches and onions to you, too! I WOULD give you chicken, but there's my vegetarianism issue thingy. Although it might make you hyper, I just can't give you the flesh of some innocent little bird. So, I'll give you X's glasses, instead!  
  
X-Ray: Why're you taking everything from me? I need those glasses!  
  
Because. And I'll get you some new ones **takes Harry Potter's glasses and gives them to X-Ray**  
  
X-Ray: Whoa. Nice glasses.  
  
Harry Potter: HEY! Those are min--**gets thwacked by me**  
  
I never did like that Potter kid. He takes all the attention away from Remus! My loooooove...  
  
Remus: Uh, what about Zigzag?  
  
He's off burning what once was my sanity with Grace.  
  
Remus: OK... BYE! **spontaneously combusts**'  
  
Aw... Oh, well. There's another chapter to write. And I shall write it! 


	6. Chapter Five: Confessions

Disclaimer: Do I HAVE to put this on every chapter? Does anyone actually think I'm Louis Sachar? If you do, I suggest you get professional help.  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter 5  
  
'Just because you're paranoid, it doesn't mean they're not really after you.'--Unknown  
  
Ricky's lunch was interrupted by a knock on the door. He peeked out of the window and groaned when he saw Nora standing in front of the door, looking as though she would rather be anywhere else. Didn't she have anything else to do? Of course, she had said in her letter that she was... infatuated with him. It was quite a scary thought, but it did explain some things. He ran up to his room and shut the door.  
  
By the time she had discovered the doorbell, he had discovered earplugs, and would have been able to avoid her, had not his mother answered the door. His mother opened the door of his room and told him there was a girl to see him.  
  
"I'm sick, mom," he told her, hiding under the covers of his bed. He had dived into bed when he heard her opening the door.  
  
"Of course you are," she said, disbelieving. "What should I tell her?"  
  
"That I'm sick."  
  
"Ricky, be polite and act your age. I can't believe you're afraid of girls!"  
  
"I'm not afraid of girls," he said, his ego in serious need of love and attention. "I just don't want to see this girl."  
  
His mother gave him 'a look'. It didn't take long before the guilt set in.  
  
"Alright, alright, I'll go talk to her..." he grumbled, getting out of bed and walking to the door. His mother smiled and left his sight.  
  
"Hello," he said reluctantly. Nora mumbled something at the ground.  
  
"Well, what are you here for?" he snapped. Nora mumbled something, and then repeated herself, just a bit louder.  
  
"I'm here because I wanted to clear something up. You see, well, I kind of said I... had an obsession with you--"  
  
"You never said that."  
  
"Well, I, um..." she put her hands together, took them apart, and put them together again as though it was the most entertaining thing in the universe. "That's not what I meant. I meant that I don't mind thinking about you--not that I do. I mean, well, I do, but I don't um..." she trailed off, and looked up. "You... uh... know what I mean."  
  
Ricky crossed his arms. "Isn't your mother worried that you're 'spending your free time with me'?"  
  
"Well, uh, she doesn't... know..." she blinked. "Um... why do you care?"  
  
"No reason."  
  
"Ah..." she chewed her lip and Ricky suddenly realized that a book was nowhere in sight. "Um... you sure?"  
  
He narrowed his eyes and she took a few steps backwards. "I know why she doesn't want you to be around me."  
  
"Uh... yeah. I do, too..." she raised an eyebrow. "You are male..."  
  
He forced a laugh. A very fake laugh. "You know."  
  
"Actually... I don't."  
  
"It's because I'm insane." There. He had said it. Why he had used the word 'insane' instead of 'crazy' he didn't know. He had always liked the sound of 'crazy' much more.  
  
Nora opened and closed her mouth several times before saying, "Um... I really don't believe you are."  
  
"Well, I am," he shrugged as if it was nothing, but he could feel his stomach twisting in a tight knot. Why was he telling her this, anyway? "I've got acute paranoia."  
  
"So?" She was smiling, as though she knew something he didn't. "At least you're not lactose intolerant and allergic to peanuts and cats." At exactly that moment, Cat took the opportunity to run past Ricky rub against Nora's leg. She sneezed and her eyes began to water almost immediately. Ricky picked up Cat and set her down far away from the girl standing in the doorway. He sat down on the steps and motioned for Nora to do the same.  
  
"People don't make fun of you because you have some allergies. There's nothing wrong with you." He was staring blankly ahead, not looking at her. She'd probably be all emotional and that sort of crap. Girls did that.  
  
"Nothing wrong with me?" He could imagine she was rolling her eyes. Not typical girl behaviour. "Have you ever had Rice Krispies with soy milk?" He shook his head. "I've never had a peanut butter and jelly sandwhich in my life. Oh, and I forgot. I'm atychiphobic. I have a fear of failure. I almost starved myself once because I got 6/10 on a spelling test. In second grade. And you think there's nothing wrong with me?"  
He could only think of one thing to say. "I'm sorry."  
"Don't be," she sighed. "But there's nothing wrong with you. So you're a little paranoid. Who cares?" He looked at her.  
  
"Lots of people."  
  
"Well, then they have a problem with themselves. Most people who insult others feel insecure themselves and put someone else down to make themselves feel better." She smiled reassuringly, although he wasn't too sure he understood what she had just said.  
  
"Uh... thanks. I think."  
  
"You're welcome," she said. "So, are we friends?"  
  
He stared at her, but then nodded. "Sure, why not."  
  
"Well, that's all I had to say. I've got to go now, so bye." She got up, waved, and left. He got up, locked the door, and went back to his room.  
  
Wait... what had just happened? He replayed the scene in his head and, when he had figured it out, he wondered why he had just told her what he had never told anyone. She was a girl, for heaven's sake!  
  
Hey... maybe you like her...  
  
He quickly told that voice to shut up. After all, it was just an annoying voice. What did it know?  
  
As he flopped down on his bed, now mentally exhausted, he decided that it knew quite a lot. 


	7. Chapter Six: Anne

Disclaimer: Out of funny disclaimers, but I doubt anyone actually reads this.  
  
Author's Note: I swore in the last chapter(and in this one, a bit). I feel dirty... **washes out keyboard with soap** Bad me! **thwacks self**  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter 6  
  
'In order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different.'-- Coco Chanel  
  
So, he liked her. He had concluded that much. It was a disturbing thought, really, but Ricky didn't let it bother him too much.  
  
Several days later, he ventured out of his room where he spent most of his time, and went to McDonald's. His mother had gone out and he wasn't that great at cooking, so he had decided to get a hamburger for lunch.  
  
Ricky chewed quickly, not enjoying his burger in the least. It had way too much ketchup and pickles, but not enough tomatoes. He had always liked tomatoes, but for some reason hated ketchup. It was just one of those odd little quirks he had. Just as he finished, he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He looked over his shoulder and saw a girl wearing glasses, a bandana, and a huge grin.  
  
"Hi there, my name's Anne! My friend over there knows you," she pointed to a large, hardcover book that someone was sitting behind. "Or someone who looks just like you. Ever had Timbits? They're really good. D'you like Harry Potter, I like Harry Potter. What hand do you write with? I like cheese. I'm a lefty, did you know that?" It all sounded like one word. He simply stared at her, and when he didn't reply, she just said, "Well, you know, that's OK. You should really try poutine sometime. 'Tis a Canadian food, you know." And skipped off to where the hardcover(which was called 'A Walk to Remember') was.  
  
To avoid further conversation--well, not technically conversation-- with the girl,-- what had she said her name was? Oh, right, Anne-- he threw out the paper his burger had been wrapped in and left the restaurant.  
  
Unfortunately for him, he ran right into Keith Barrenger. What a wonderful day this had been.  
  
"Hey, I heard you were going out with that nerd, Loony!" Keith said, using his favourite name for Ricky, Loony. A girl wearing a revealing top and tight, flared jeans giggled. Obviously, she was Keith's current girlfriend.  
  
"Dude," said a female voice, "I am sooooo not going out with him." Ricky turned around to see the girl who had talked to him only a few minutes earlier, Anne. Standing next to her, slightly hiding behind her, was Nora. Of course. Who else would read in a McDonald's? "Considering that, by 'nerd', you meant me."  
  
Keith stared at her. "What the hell?"  
  
"Don't use bad language, dude," she shook her head. "There's little children around. And, yes, I said that I am not dating this dude. Although, I believe that by 'nerd' you were actually referring to my friend here, but I am the one who has reached nerdom. She's just a bookworm. Bit of a brainiac, too." She seemed to notice that no one had any idea of what she had just said. "Okay, okay... So that your miniscule brains can comprehend the opinions I have just voiced, I will say it very slowly, in very small words. I--am--a--nerd. I--am--not--going--out--with--him. My--friend--the-- 'nerd'--is--not--either." She made exaggerated gestures with her hands as she spoke.  
  
"What're you talking about, you b--"  
  
"I told you already, dude, cut back on the profanity!" She sighed. "C'mon, Ricky, we don't want your IQ to slip because of hanging around with beings of such little intelligence." She walked off, ignoring the fact that Keith and his girlfriend were calling her every name known to man(and woman).  
  
Ricky followed her, wondering how she knew his name, walking just a little behind Nora who offered him a shy, almost apologetic, smile.  
  
"Sorry," she whispered, Anne was just out of earshot. "She's visiting from Canada for the summer, and she likes to --er-- just be a good person, I guess. I had told her about you, and so she, uh, just went bonkers over there. Sorry."  
  
"It's okay," he shrugged, looking down and not meeting her eyes. Which was hard, because when he looked down, he usually was looking her right in the eye. That was one of the many problems with being tall.  
  
"You can just go now, if you want. She's been talking about bugging you all of tomorrow, anyway."  
  
"Why tomorrow?"  
  
"It's... well... you'll just have to see for yourself."  
  
"Hey, dude," it was Anne, again, "Did you know that we met in a bookstore? I was going to get Kenneth Oppel's autograph--he wrote those Silverwing books-- in a Chapters in Toronto, and I bumped into Nora. Literally. I tripped over her and stepped on her book." Anne was grinning, a faraway look on her face, as though she was reliving the memory.  
  
"Well, Anne, Ricky has to go now," Nora said quickly. Ricky nodded almost violently.  
  
"Yeah, I have to go right now, so I'll see you later, bye!" And he dashed off, not wanting to spend that much more time with Anne.  
  
As he locked the door behind him, breathing heavily from running so fast, Ricky wondered why he didn't know any normal girls.  
  
But, then again, he wasn't sure that there was such a thing as 'normal girls'. They were all pretty strange to him. 


	8. Chapter Seven: Oh, Canada

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, they are all their own persons.  
  
Author's note: Don't attack me because of the jokes and whatnot! PLEASE! I like Canadians (I am one, you know) and Americans very much! DON'T KILL ME!  
  
I got the jokes from www.wedonotliveinigloos.com (thank you, Grace!)  
  
Chapter 7  
  
'Canada is an interesting place - the rest of the world thinks so, even if Canadians don't.'--Unknown (heh heh. from wedonotliveinigloos.com.)  
  
Ricky was pleased to find that Anne did not bug him at all the next day. He didn't even see her!  
  
His good mood only lasted a short period of time, because he then began to wonder if she didn't like him. But, then again, she was pretty strange herself. He kept telling himself that and his mood improved once again.  
  
*Meanwhile...*  
  
"Okay, here's a good one. While visiting England, George Bush is invited to tea with the Queen. He asks her what her leadership philosophy is. She says that it is to surround herself with intelligent people. He asks how she knows if they're intelligent. 'I do so by asking them the right questions,' says the Queen. 'Allow me to demonstrate.' She phones Tony Blair and says, 'Mr. Prime Minister. Please answer this question: Your mother has a child, and your father has a child, and this child is not your brother or sister. Who is it?'  
  
Tony Blair responds, 'It's me, ma'am.'  
  
'Correct. Thank you and good-bye, sir,' says the Queen. She hangs up and says, 'Did you get that, Mr. Bush?'  
  
'Yes ma'am. Thanks a lot. I'll definitely be using that!'  
  
Upon returning to Washington, he decides he'd better put the Chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee to the test. He summons Jesse Helms to the White House and says, 'Senator Helms, I wonder if you can answer a question for me.'  
  
'Why, of course, sir. What's on your mind?'  
  
'Uh, your mother has a child, and your father has a child, and this child is not your brother or your sister. Who is it?'  
  
Helms hems and haws and finally asks, 'Can I think about it and get back to you?'  
  
Bush agrees, and Helms leaves. He immediately calls a meeting of other senior Republican senators, and they puzzle over the question for several hours, but nobody can come up with an answer. Finally, in desperation, Helms calls Colin Powell at the State Department and explains his problem.  
  
'Now lookee here, son, your mother has a child, and your father has a child, and this child is not your brother or your sister. Who is it?'  
  
Powell answers immediately, 'It's me, of course, you dumb cracker.'  
  
Much relieved, Helms rushes back to the White House and exclaims, 'I know the answer, sir! I know who it is! It's Colin Powell!'  
  
And Bush replies in disgust, 'Wrong, you idiot, it's Tony Blair!'" Anne fell over laughing, getting some weird looks from passers-by. She glared at them and pointed at her shirt, which read 'I'm Canadian, eh?'. Nora shook her head sadly.  
  
"Hey, you're supposed to be supporting my Canadian-ness of Canada Day!" Anne whined, crossing her arms. "Oh, hey--" she was grinning again. "Want a Timbit?" she thrust a box at her friend, which contained some sort of food. They were round pieces of cakey, doughnutty things.  
  
"Uh, Anne... Those are from Canada, right?"  
  
Anne nodded.  
  
"Um... you came here about a week ago and... um... are you sure those are still edible?"  
  
Anne considered this for a moment. "Yes, yes they are. See?" She took a dark brown Timbit and made a show of chewing it, while telling Nora that it was "deliciously chocolatey".  
  
Nora was saved from having to eat a week-old Timbit, when an innocent person who had been watching was detected by Anne, who took the opportunity to sing 'O Canada' in French.  
  
Nora hid behind the book she was currently reading ('A Walk to Remember' by Nicholas Sparks), and Anne sat down again, this time to tell her another joke.  
  
"Don't worry," she said as she saw the pained look on Nora's face, "it makes fun of Canadians!"  
  
Nora sighed and shrugged.  
  
"A Canadian is walking down the street with a case of beer under his arm. His friend Doug stops him and asks, 'Hey Bob! Whatcha get the case of beer for?' 'I got it for my wife, eh.' answers Bob. 'Oh!' exclaims Doug, 'Good trade!'" She fell off the park bench again. When she got back up, she saw that Nora had gone back to her book.  
  
"Ellie..." Anne whined. "Why aren't you laughing? Remember, you're only here because you didn't want me to annoy your boyfriend."  
  
Nora turned a page. "He's not my boyfriend."  
  
"Well, you sure act like he is."  
  
"Go away."  
  
"If I do, I'll be headed over to see Ricky..." Anne grinned evilly as Nora sighed in an 'I surrender' sort of way.  
  
"Alright, alright, alright. What do I have to do?"  
  
Anne opened the box. "Please eat the Timbit?"  
  
~*~  
  
Author's Note: Cruddy chapter, I know. 


	9. Chapter Eight: Happy Birthday

Disclaimer: I - DON'T - OWN - ZIGZAG. Now that I've cleared that up, you may read the chapter.  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter 8  
  
'How old are you going to be again? Wait, first give me some cake.' -My brother, Jordan. (Aw, what a cute little bugger.)  
  
An entire week passed, and there was still no sign of either female. Ricky smirked as he thought of this, and almost fell off the toilet with utter glee (Hey, it's where all geniuses do their thinking!). It was a good thing, too. The lack of females, that is, not the fact that he almost fell off the toilet. If Nora or even, dare he think it, Anne, turned up, he probably would have turned red and been at a loss for words. That wasn't fun, but it was what happened when you were going on a "hormonal rampage". That was what his mom had called it, anyway. Or maybe she had used the word "emotional" instead of "hormonal".  
  
Ricky shrugged, and went about his business. He had left the washroom when he heard the doorbell ring. Silently, he crept down the stairs and saw, to his horror, Nora and Anne sitting in the living room with, also to his horror, his mother. Oh, yes, today was going wonderfully. First, he almost falls off the toilet (not a pleasant experience), then the only girls he ever really spoke to (well, who had spoken to him, in Anne's case) show up, and, to top it all off, they decide to have a little chat with his mom. No doubt they were talking about him behind his back, saying how stupid he was. Or perhaps how awful his hair looked. He had never allowed anyone to cut his hair shorter than it was now, because it simply looked awful. True, it would be easier to brush, but it would have looked even more like something was living in it. He had decided just to give up on brushing, so its current length was the most convenient. That didn't mean it was stunning or anything. He strongly believed that his mother and two girls his age could be talking about his hair, but that was before he heard a snippet of their conversation.  
  
Ah... They were attacking his social skills.  
  
"He's constantly telling me how he's got no friends, and here you two are! Why wouldn't he mention you?" His mom asked the two girls. Ricky winced. Mothers...  
  
"He's probably just embarrassed, because we're girls," Anne shrugged. "It's no big deal. Maybe he just doesn't want you to think that he's dating or whatever."  
  
"Maybe you're right."  
  
"Well, he wouldn't have mentioned me, anyway. I'm from Canada, but I'm just visiting. We just met a little while ago."  
  
"Yeah," Nora added. At least, Ricky thought she did. Her mouth had moved and she was nodding, but he hadn't heard anything.  
  
"Oh, Ricky!" Darn. He had been spotted. "Why don't you come down here and say hello to these young ladies?" Why did mothers have to use that flowery sort of vocabulary? Young ladies? Anne, being a bizarre creature and patriotic Canadian, was hardly a lady, and he had never really thought of Nora as a girl, much less a lady, until a few weeks ago. His mom then left, saying she had work to do.  
  
He slunk down the rest of the stairs and leaned against the couch. "Hello." With a sort of 'I'd-rather-be-anywhere-else' sort of look, he turned his head towards them, slouching to emphasize the message his expression was giving. Nora smiled, and this time it wasn't a shy, apologetic, or even forced one. It was a supremely happy one. In fact, it was more of a grin, but with a quiet, bookish quality to it. Oh, yes, he was in trouble now. It's bad enough to like someone, but to be describing the QUALITY of her SMILE? That was just wrong.  
  
"I, uh, just wanted to give you this," She handed him a rectangular package wrapped in purple tissue paper. She seemed to like purple a lot. Not only were her clothes usually purple, but the hair band that kept her hair off her forehead was also a deep plum-- 'deep plum'? If Anne had read his mind, she would have said something to the effect of, "Did Hell freeze over and the Maple Leafs win the Stanley cup?" but, of course, she wasn't, so he stuck with "What the fudge?" Since, not only was he unfamiliar with the whole Maple Leafs-Hell freezing over thing, but also "What the fudge?" had been one of his favourite sayings since fourth grade.  
  
So, fighting the urge to shake those troublesome thoughts from his head, he stared stupidly at the gift in his hands. "What's this for?"  
  
Nora blinked in a way that signifies confusion, instead of simply moistening her eyeballs. "Your birthday. It's July 8th."  
  
"Oh, right. Of course." He had remembered and his mom had reminded him, but he didn't think anyone else would know his date of birth, let alone remember it. And so, hands slightly shaking (it had been quite a while since someone who wasn't in his family gave him a birthday present), he tore off the wrapping to find, big surprise, a book. A notebook, to be exact, with a dark green cover and a matching pen clipped inside it.  
  
"I couldn't figure out what book you would like, or if you would even like a book," Nora explained, her voice, amazingly enough, not its usual quiet self, but almost, dare I say it, normal. "So I decided to get you the notebook, because, that way, you can record your own thoughts, feelings, fiction or non-fiction inside it." He could feel a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but hid it as best as he could. It wasn't that great, but at least it was something.  
  
The beginnings of a smile vanished immediately when Anne offered him some homemade poutine, since cake was, as she sarcastically put it, "so last-Tuesday".  
  
"It's Canadian, so it has to be good!" She exclaimed, thrusting a bowl at him. "Look, it's French fries, gravy, and cheese! Cheese! Who can resist cheese?"  
  
"Me," he said simply. "No offence," he quickly added. "But I'm not that fond of cheese. And besides, I... had puttine before!"  
  
Anne raised an eyebrow. "It's poutine. POO-TEEN."  
  
"Yeah, that's what I said. Poutine."  
  
"Whatever, dude." Anne gave up and handed him a coin that was silver with a gold centre. On the gold part was a picture of a polar bear. "It's a toonie," Anne said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "If you ever come to Canada and find something really nice for two dollars or less, you can buy it."  
  
"Oh." He turned the small coin over in his hands. "So, when are your birthdays?" He cursed his conscience for making him ask.  
  
"Mine's November 19th," Anne said.  
  
"March 4th," said Nora.  
  
"Ah..." Damn. He had forgot. Not like Nora had told everyone or anything, but she had mentioned it. And now his accursed conscience had gotten the better of him. "I'll be right back,"  
  
So... what was he doing? Getting her a late birthday gift, of course. Just to spite his conscience, he told himself it was so he could get rid of one of the books his mom had forced on him. Ha. Killing two birds with one stone.  
  
So... what did he have? There was 'The Hobbit', but he liked that one, 'A Child's Anthology of Poetry'? Possibly... Ah. 'Freak the Mighty'. One of the most depressing books out there. Perfect for Nora. She was a girl, after all, and that was what girls liked.  
  
Content with that, he took the book of the shelf and ran back to the living room. He handed Nora the book, with a slight smirk on his face. She was speechless. The 'I'm-to-shocked-and-happy-to-speak' sort of speechless, not the 'I-hate-talking' kind. Mission accomplished.  
  
"Thank you," she said, a little breathlessly. Her mouth was hanging open and he was pretty sure there were tears in her eyes.  
  
Suddenly, he remembered Anne. Oh, fudge. Anne just HAD to be there, didn't she? He sighed and dug the toonie out of his pocket.  
  
"Happy birthday," he shoved the toonie into her hands.  
  
"Dude, my birthday's in November. But if you don't want the toonie, I've got a loonie."  
  
He stared at her. Loony? She had been there when Keith called him that, but hadn't she stuck up for him? Was she making fun of him?  
  
Anne pulled a gold coin with a picture of some sort of duck etched on one side out of her pocket. "Here, it's a loonie. They call it that because there's a loon on it, see?" She pointed to the duck. Well, it wasn't really a duck. It was a loon.  
  
"Oh, I see," he said, pretending to be excited by the loonie.  
  
"It's only worth a dollar, though. And a Canadian dollar, at that."  
  
"Oh, I see," he said again.  
  
"Well, I've got to go," Nora said, checking her watch. "I have to pick my brother up from camp." She smiled at him. "Happy birthday, again, Dickie,"  
  
And before he could get angry with her for calling him that, she had already left. Ricky stared after her, not aware that Anne was closely watching him.  
  
"You like her," she grinned, "Don't you?"  
  
"Huh?" he had been brought back to reality, "Wha? No."  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
"I don't!"  
  
"Uh huh... whatever." she rolled her eyes and adjusted her bandana, which, he now noticed, was decorated with red maple leaves. "Look, I'm Nora's friend. Maybe I can help you."  
  
He scoffed. "I don't need your help."  
  
"So you DO like her," she grinned evilly. "Well, anyway, I think she likes you. And I'd hate for you to get into a fight over something tiny like... I don't know... what brand of toothpaste you use. I can help you, okay?"  
  
He sighed. She wasn't going to give up. "Fine."  
  
Anne grinned again. "You won't regret this." She got up and left.  
  
Well, that was interesting, he thought, looking down at the bowl of poutine Anne had left. He absentmindedly picked up a fork and stabbed into a French fry that was dripping with gravy and cheese. It turned out he quite liked poutine, and immediately became quite fond of Anne for leaving it in his living room.  
  
~*~  
  
I command you to see 'Bend it Like Beckham'- NOW! Lol, it is a great movie. I saw it yesterday. I think it's my favourite! Unfortunately, there's only two fics about it, and they're both HP parodies. It doesn't matter; they're both good. There's 'Pitch it Like Pendragon' and 'Bend it Like Weasley'. Maybe I should write one. A 'Bend it Like Beckham' story, that is. Oh yeah, this is gonna be one of my obsessions for quite a while...  
  
I redid the prologue. I wrote it while half asleep, but now it's more of a prologue, no matter what my mental state was at the time of my writing it.  
  
And now...  
  
More shout out type things for you to enjoy!  
  
x cherrykoolaid- You really like it that much? Thank you! Here, have some peaches and onions. The symbolicness is overwhelming. Watch. **stares at peaches and onions and promptly bursts into tears** See?  
  
The Hotness- Um... was that an insult, a compliment, or a statement? Either way, here's some imaginary chai (there's a shortage of the real stuff) Did I mention it's Indian? Like 'Bend it Like Beckham'! Wait... That's British. But the main character is Indian! YAY! Anyway, thanks for going out of your way to leave a review!  
  
drowchild- I love you. What would I do without you? Thank you so much, my ego had just taken a severe beating. I'm a good writer? Aw, shucks. You're making me blush. 


	10. Chapter Nine: Anne Attempts at Matchmaki...

Disclaimer: Still don't own him. It's not like it's exactly on my to-do list.  
  
Author's Note: WOOHOO! BEND IT LIKE BECKHAM! FWEEE! Sorry. Very obsessed with 'Bend it Like Beckham'. Yeah. But you knew that already. Well, sorry for the delay (Sort of delay. I used to be updating almost every day, so I guess it counts as a delay.). I've been obsessing over 'Bend it Like Beckham'. Oh, yeah, and Anne's supposed to be annoying. Just in case you were wondering.  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter 9  
  
'Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match  
  
Find me a find, catch me a catch,'-'Matchmaker, Matchmaker' from 'Fiddler on the Roof'  
  
The morning was almost completely uneventful. Ricky was sitting on the couch, watching TV (a habit he couldn't get out of), when someone pressed their face up against the living room window. Count on Anne to do that, and let the doorbell be. He sighed, turned off the TV, and gave her a look to make her stop tapping against the window. She was annoying enough getting attention the normal way.  
  
He opened the door and she zipped in, apparently unaware of the fact that he would like nothing better than to strangle her. Of course, he couldn't do that. He'd get in trouble and people would really think he lost it. So he'd have to make do with his fantasies.  
  
"Hey, dude," Anne said a little breathlessly, as though she was excited for some reason. Well, why wouldn't she be? She seemed to be proud of her irritating personality. "Let's get started, shall we?" And she stomped out the door. Ricky sighed again, pulled on his sneakers, and followed her, cursing under his breath and calling Anne every name and any name there was.  
  
"Okay, so you like Nora, right?"  
  
Ricky said something that sounded as though he had answered, but it cam out all muffled. Anne took it as a 'yes'.  
  
"Alright, let's see. You've got to tell her at one point," she ignored Ricky's protests. "D'you know what she likes?"  
  
"Books?"  
  
Anne was delighted with this answer. "Exactly. She likes books. As long as you know what she likes, you're onto a pretty good start." She paused, then continued. "Now, don't just come out and tell her you like her, you have be really slow and make sure SHE likes YOU."  
  
. "And where'd you get the idea I like her? Did you just assume that- "  
  
"Nope. You said it yourself, yesterday," Anne pushed her glasses up a bit on her nose. "Back to what I was saying. You have to make sure she likes you, so be really nice to her. If I know Nora, and I do, she likes boys who are kind, polite, and considerate... You know." She took a deep breath and stopped walking. "Whatever you do, stay away from her looks. Don't mention them. Don't tell her she's pretty. She'll go bonkers and accuse you of only liking her because she's attractive or whatever. And if you tell her she's not, then she'll accuse you of being rude. That's the biggest problem with Nora, trust me. She'll eat you alive if you so much as tell her that her hair is shiny."  
  
Ricky wasn't quite sure about why he was listening. It sounded as though girls, or at least this girl in particular, were one of the hardest things to understand.  
  
"That's about all you have to stay away from. Keep in mind that Nora likes things to be old-fashioned, so you'll probably have to recite poetry or something. She'll like that."  
  
"She likes poetry?"  
  
"She should."  
  
"Oh..." Ricky shrugged. "I thought she liked 'Pride and Prejudice'."  
  
A look crossed Anne's face. She stared at him, a smile slowly forming on her lips. "Yeah, she does... I've got an idea." She looked around, as though people might be listening, and then whispered something in Ricky's ear. His eyes became wide and he shook his head violently from side to side.  
  
"No way. I am no dressing up like Mr What's-his-name."  
  
"Darcy. His name is Mr Darcy."  
  
"Well, I'm not dressing up like Mr Darcy." Ricky crossed his arms over his chest. "I simply am not."  
  
"Fine, do that, but unless you've got a brilliant idea-"  
  
"I do!" He didn't really, but he'd do anything to get her to leave him alone.  
  
"Oh, really? What is it?"  
  
"It's a surprise." Ricky couldn't help grinning at his own brilliance. Well, it wasn't really brilliance, but you know what I mean.  
  
"Well, that's nice."  
  
"Yes, yes it is." He took a few steps away from her. "I'll be going back now."  
  
"And watch more TV? Nope, sorry," Anne said. "Nora hates television. You're going to have to limit your viewing time or you'll become a couch potato and Nora'll never get off your back."  
  
"Fine, I'll go read a book or something."  
  
"Thank you," she seemed very pleased with herself. "See you later!"  
  
Hope not, Ricky thought as he ran back home.  
  
~*~  
  
"He likes you."  
  
Nora looked up from her book ('Jane Eyre'), and gave Anne a 'do-not- disturb-me-while-I'm-reading' look. Anne shrugged it off.  
  
"Well, he does. I just thought I'd inform you."  
  
"Thank you." She looked down at her book and didn't look up again.  
  
"Maybe you should let him know you like him."  
  
"Hmmm..." She was still absorbed in her book, but kept listening. "How would I do that?"  
  
"Well, maybe you should tell him he... has nice eyes?"  
  
"He has eyes, I have eyes, we all have eyes, Anne."  
  
"Yeah, but his are special!"  
  
"I see," Nora turned a page. "How so?"  
  
"Well, they're mismatched." Nora seemed mildly interested, but kept reading. "He's got one blue and one green."  
  
"If you pay that much attention to details like that, maybe you're the one who likes him." She considered closing her book to make her message clearer.  
  
"I don't! I'm just saying that you should tell him he has pretty eyes. That's all."  
  
"Did it ever occur to you that I DON'T like him?"  
  
"Well, then why do you smile every time he walks in a room, or sort of run short of breath when you talk to him? It's very obvious, you know. Oh, right, and you DID just say you do."  
  
"Ah. That would explain it."  
  
"Yes, it would. Now you go tell him you like his eyes or I'll show him your baby pictures. More specifically, the ones where you're-"  
  
"Alright, alright!" She closed her book so quickly that a small cloud of dust rose from it. Without waiting, she pulled on her shoes and put her house key around her neck. Just as she opened the door, she hesitated and turned back to Anne. "What if I don't like his eyes? What if I think they're just ordinary, ugly, eyes?"  
  
Anne raised her eyebrows and said, "You do?" She waited for the desired effect to take place.  
  
"Oh, right." A look of realization came across Nora's face as she fiddled with the string around her neck that the key was hanging on. She waited a few moments in silence, looking from Anne, to outside. Suddenly, Nora ran out the door in quite a hurry.  
  
So... what was she going to do? Oh, right. She had to tell Ricky that he had nice eyes. She could do that, right?  
  
Although Nora wasn't voicing any of these thoughts, she looked frantic.  
  
She sighed, shaking her head. "This is going to be interesting." 


	11. Chapter Ten: A Minor Setback

Disclaimer: Would you believe it? I STILL DO NOT OWN ZIGZAG! (Let us hope he's his own person...)  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter 10  
  
'You have no pity on my nerves!'--Mrs Bennet, from 'Pride and Prejudice'  
  
Ricky didn't go back to watching TV. Just in case Anne was still hiding in the shrubbery, watching him (and it wasn't too implausible), he stayed outside. He really couldn't take her much more. To relieve his stress, he lit a cigarette. As usual, it took away any anxiety he might have.  
  
~*~  
  
"Okay, there he is." Nora saw him standing pretty far away, but it was definitely Ricky. You couldn't mistake him for anyone else because of his hair and height. Nora took a deep breath. "Alright. Hi, Ricky. I was just taking a walk and, well, imagine seeing you here? Oh, you live here? Oh. Did you know that you have really nice eyes? I mean, there's one green and one blue. It's a bit... what do normal people call it? Nifty? Cool?" She shook her head. Best to stay with a vocabulary she understood. "Hello. I was taking a walk, just now. How have you been? I've been good. Did you know you have these really nice eyes? They're mismatched, you know? Blue and green." Again, she shook her head. "Alright, he's right there. I'll just-" she stopped. What was that smell? It was... smoke. Her eyes grew large. No. It couldn't be right... could it? He was male, after all, and they could be pretty unpredictable, but could it be... possible?  
  
"Ricky?"  
  
He turned around. Oh, dear, it was him. Hot tears stung at her eyes.  
  
"I... I was going to tell you something, but..." she stumbled, searching for the words. "You... y-you smoke?"  
  
"Well, um..." She sighed. He was starting to talk like her. "Yeah, I guess. What's wrong with that?"  
  
"Oh, nothing," she spat. "Nothing at all. You know, I actually though I liked you for a while? Hell, I though I loved you." Ricky stared at her. She had just swore, hadn't she? "But now I know that you're into this crap. Well, I hope you know it's a disgusting habit. And you're too young, anyway. You're only fifteen." That was definitely PG language, at least. She must have been pretty upset. "Good day to you, sir." She turned around and stormed away, obviously livid.  
  
"Well," he said to himself. "That's a minor setback."  
  
~*~  
  
"I shall kill myself later for doing this," he promised himself under his breath as he dialled Anne's number. Actually, it was her aunt and uncle's number, but she was staying with them. She had left her phone number there when she came by to 'coach' him on the science and nature of girls. There were two rings before someone picked up the phone.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hi, can I speak to Anne?" He tried to sound as innocent as possible, just in case her aunt or uncle were listening.  
  
"She's speaking. Ricky?"  
  
"How'd you know?"  
  
"You're the only guy with my number, and it sounded like you, though no one ever sounds like themselves on the phone. Anyway, what's up?"  
  
"I don't know how to say this, but..." He tried to find the best words to make it sound as though he had been right the whole time and Nora had gone off her rocker.  
  
"Just say it like it was."  
  
He seriously hoped Anne couldn't read minds. "I smoke, okay?"  
  
"YOU WHAT?!"  
  
"Sorry, but Nora found out and she got pretty upset about-"  
  
"I should say she's upset! Her grandmother died of lung cancer and she knew someone who got asthma because of second-hand smoke. Dude, you've just opened up a bunch of bad memories."  
  
"I'm sorry, okay?"  
  
"I'm afraid that I'm not the one you'll have to apologize to. I sure hope you can remember that amazing idea you had, you may very well need it."  
  
He was confused for a moment, then remembered what he had said. "Oh, right." He'd have to think of something fast. Suddenly, a little light bulb went on in his mind. "Hey, Anne?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"D'you have a copy of 'Pride and Prejudice'?"  
  
"Just the movie, but that's back in Canada."  
  
He chewed his lip. "Know where I can get it?"  
  
"The movie or the book, and rent it or buy it?"  
  
"Either, as long as the movie represents the book well-"  
  
"Oh, it does."  
  
"And either, as long as I can see it or read it."  
  
"You COULD try the library. Or just ask me, I've basically had to memorize it when I became friends with Ellie."  
  
"Ellie?"  
  
"Nora. Anyway, what do you need it for?"  
  
Ricky quickly explained his plan, speaking quietly as though someone's hearing it could mean the demise of the human race. He was pretty sure Anne was grinning on the other end.  
  
"No problem," she told him what she knew, also quietly and quickly. Ricky wasn't sure if she was doing that out of excitement or if she was mocking him.  
  
"Thanks, bye," he said, not waiting for Anne to respond before he hung up. He scribbled furiously on a piece of paper, then read it over when he had finished, a huge smile slowly growing on his face.  
  
He laughed triumphantly before he realized what he was writing in. It was a dark green notebook with a matching pen. He shook his head.  
  
"Man, you like this girl too much. You're scaring yourself." Ricky was sure he could hear romantic background music playing.  
  
That was before he realized he had left the radio on. 


	12. Chapter Eleven: Mr Richard Darcy

Disclaimer: If you sue me, I shall laugh and point at the disclaimers in earlier chapters.  
  
Author's Note: Hee hee, I did it! I made his last name Darcy! **points at chapter title triumphantly**  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter 11  
  
"'I have always considered poetry as the food of love,' said Darcy.  
  
'Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. - Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it away completely.'"--'Pride and Prejudice'  
  
Before he knew what he was doing, Ricky closed his eyes and fell asleep. The realization of the events of the day had taken a lot out of him. He simply slumped onto his bed and was dead to the world.  
  
A cross between a 'thunk' sound and a tapping one made him stir. He opened one eye and got up, walking groggily to the window to see what had happened. Trying to suppress a yawn (and failing miserably), he rubbed his eyes and opened both this time, only to look down and see someone standing down on the ground beneath his window. The sight surprised him, but then he snuck a glance at the words he had written the night before and then at the clock. It was 5:30 a.m. and the sun had not yet risen. He yawned again, stretching his arms out wide and opened his window after a rock was thrown against it, once again making the 'thunk-tap' noise. With his neck stuck out the open window, he saw that the bandana worn by whoever was below his window was decorated with red maple leaves. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he recognised Anne's face. Then about the memories of the previous day flooded back to him.  
  
Oh... Right...  
  
"Come down here!" Anne said in a loud whisper. Ricky was halfway through a nod when he stopped.  
  
"How?" he asked, using the same voice.  
  
"Climb down, of course," she replied, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jeans and rolling her eyes.  
  
"Uh... right." He awkwardly stuck one leg out the window and put his foot down on the ledge. "What now?"  
  
"Get both legs out and jump down, just make sure you curl up into a ball when you jump, or you might break your leg."  
  
Well, that's reassuring, Ricky thought as he clenched his teeth and clambered out the window, crouched down on the ledge and closed his eyes.  
  
"One..." he muttered, eyes still shut tight. "Two..." He loosened his grip on the ledge-- "Three." And jumped, landing with a 'thud' on the cool, damp grass. It must have rained earlier.  
  
"Alright," he said, getting up and brushing bits of wet grass off his shirt. "What do you want?"  
  
"I just wanted to tell you that Nora is in a right state," Ricky raised his eyebrow when Anne said 'right state'. It didn't seem like the sort of thing she would usually say. "I've called her about five times and she never answers--"  
  
"Maybe that's because it's 5:30," he interrupted.  
  
"I meant I called before. While the sun was up," Anne looked pretty vexed.  
  
"Alright, sorry..." He was hunched over a bit, as though proving his submission.  
  
"Thank you. Now, as I was saying... She hasn't answered and her mom says that she took some Goosebumps books, went into her room, and hasn't come out since she got home, except for dinner."  
  
"So? Doesn't she do that all the time?" Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say.  
  
"No, it doesn't. Think about it. Eleanora Abigail Jones never--"  
  
Ricky burst out laughing.  
  
"Shh!"  
  
"Sorry." But instead of looking defeated, this time he was still giggling. "That's her name?"  
  
"Yeah, it's her full name."  
  
"I thought her name was Eleanor..."  
  
"Well, that's what she tells people, because Eleanora is so old fashioned --not that she isn't old fashioned herself."  
  
"And Abigail?"  
  
Anne glared at him. "Is there a problem with that name?"  
  
"No, it's just..."  
  
"What?"  
  
Ricky shrugged. "Not her."  
  
Anne seemed pleased with that answer. "Yeah, I guess it isn't. Well, anyway, she went into her room with Goosebumps books. I mean, c'mon, she hates Goosebumps. She calls it a 'disgrace to literature'."  
  
"Ah..." So THAT'S it...  
  
"Right. So, I sure hope that your plan works out, because she's gotta be pretty upset if she's reading Goosebumps," she smiled a smile that seemed to say 'wish you luck, you'll need it'.  
  
"Me, too." He sighed. Now he was going to have to go back inside. Again.  
  
"Oh, and here's some tea, I figured you might need it," Anne said as she handed him a mug with a lid. "Although, I don't know if you like it. It'll have to do, though, because I have no clue where to get coffee at this time of night --well, morning--in this country. I mean, if I were in Canada, I'd just run down to the Tim Horton's and get you an iced cappuccino. But I'm not. Which kind of sucks. Not that this country does, but it's just really... unfamiliar."  
  
"Um... right." He had stopped listening the moment she said the word 'Canada'. That girl could ramble on and on about that country.  
  
Maybe it helped that she was from that country.  
  
"It's Earl Grey," Anne told him, pointing at the mug.  
  
"Right... I'm not that much of a tea person, so I'll just make myself something, alright?"  
  
"Oh... sure. Good luck," she said. "And Ellie--"  
  
"Just call her Nora, will you?"  
  
"Fine... She's going to the library tomorrow, just in case you wanted to know. But she won't be there until afternoon, because she's... um... well, she's going shopping..."  
  
"For what?" he asked, curious.  
  
"None of your business. It's girl stuff," She smiled, turned and walked off, sipping what was in the mug. Ricky wasn't that sure it was really Earl Grey tea.  
  
~*~  
  
Ricky repeated the words Anne had recited to him over and over again in his head as he walked into the library. He had that part perfect, now he just had to find Nora. It was already 2:00 p.m., so he guessed she'd be in the library.  
  
He guessed right.  
  
He had to call her name softly before she noticed him, too deep in the book ('The Accidental Tourist' by Anne Tyler) to notice him before that. When he did get her attention, her eyes narrowed and her mouth became a thin line as she balanced a large pile of books in her arms and attempted to walk to the checkout desk. 'The Science of Harry Potter', a fairly large hardcover book, tumbled off the pile and Ricky stooped to catch it just before it hit the floor. He held it out to Nora and she snatched it away, not meeting his eyes.  
  
When she finally reached the checkout desk, he asked her what she was doing.  
  
"I'm avoiding you," she replied, still not looking at him and handing her library card, which was in pretty good condition, considering how often she must have used it, to the librarian.  
  
"Look, I have something I've gotta tell you, so just listen," He stood in front of her, and with the amount of books she was carrying, it was hard for her to go anywhere. She sighed.  
  
"Fine."  
  
"I'll carry some of those," He took most of the books from her pile, ignoring her cries of "I can carry them myself, thank you very much!" and "You really don't need to do that!"  
  
Still looking quite peeved, she walked outside and turned to look at him for the first time. "What do you want to say?"  
  
He took a deep breath. This was the moment he had been waiting for. The moment he had prepared for, but he didn't really feel prepared at all. It was in that fraction of a second that he realized Nora wasn't that ugly at all. Or maybe it was that he didn't mind that she had some excess weight around her middle, and she had the normal amount of acne for a 14-year-old girl. But, whatever it was, he thought, in that moment, that she was beautiful, just the way she was.  
  
He smiled. I wonder if I've fallen in love... he thought, then jerked himself back to reality and told himself to stop being so sappy.  
  
Ricky cleared his throat. "Well, I..." He took another deep breath and set his books down on the ground. "...In vain... I have struggled--" he noticed that Nora's mouth was now hanging slightly open. "It... Will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I--"  
  
"Admire and love you," Nora finished for him, still gaping as though he had just told her he loved her.  
  
Well, actually, he had done just that.  
  
Ricky watched as a few tears rolled down her cheeks and she practically jumped on him, dropping her books, burying her face in his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his neck. He looked down and upon seeing her feet hanging about an inch off the ground, he put his arms around her. Partially, he did it because that was what guys usually did in movies, partially because he meant what he said (or tried to say, anyway), and partially to keep her from strangling him by keeping all her weight on his neck.  
  
Nora was giving off these strange noises, halfway between sobs and laughter, as though she didn't know which she should be doing. Finally, when the 'sobter', as Ricky now called it, subsided, she sniffed and whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, "You're my Mr Darcy."  
  
Ricky grinned stupidly. It was the best he could hope for from Eleanora Abigail Jones. And then, without warning, he kissed her. Their lips met for but a second, but it was enough for him to loosen his grip on her, for her to fall to the ground, taking him with her.  
  
"Just snog already, will you?" Called a familiar voice. Ricky rolled his eyes. Nora followed his example.  
  
"What?" Anne asked, trying to look innocent. That was before Nora stood up and hit her over the head with one of the books she had been carrying. She didn't seem to mind, though. "Aren't I the one who's supposed to do that? And with a slate, I believe."  
  
"Will you leave me alone, Carrots?" Nora asked, laughing. Anne laughed, too, and actually listened to her. Ricky held his head in his hands. This was too much for him. He had kissed Nora, Nora kissed him back, and Anne was being pleasant. And what was up with 'Carrots'? Anne had brown hair, not red.  
  
He sighed. It was probably one of those girl things.  
  
"Hey, Ricky," It was Nora. He looked up --or, down, rather-- and saw her smiling at him.  
  
"Hey, Eleanora," She scowled.  
  
"Richard."  
  
"Abigail."  
  
"Dick." She grinned triumphantly as he opened his mouth to retort, but no sound came out. There was a silence, and then, "I love you, too."  
  
He blinked, but then remembered what had just happened. "Me too."  
  
"Yeah..." she smiled, and he wondered if she hadn't mentioned that his last statement wasn't correct out of politeness, or because she didn't care if he mutilated the English language.  
  
~*~  
  
Ricky was arrested only a few hours later. Nora didn't get to see him before it happened. She cried all night, sometimes quietly, sometimes shaking almost violently with sobs. One thing kept running through her head kept keeping her awake.  
  
She never got to tell him he had beautiful eyes.  
  
What was even worse, was the feeling that in truth, she undoubtedly believed that.  
  
~*~  
  
Author's Note: Two more chapters! Just two more chapters! WEEEEEEEEE!  
  
Please leave a review!  
  
...Please? 


	13. Chapter Twelve: I'd Walk A Thousand Mile...

Disclaimer: ... you know, already, you know!  
  
Author's Note: Just to warn you, there's spoilers for 'A Walk to Remember' in this chapter. If you haven't read/seen it and don't want to know how it ends, don't read this chapter, okay? Another thing, this chapter's kind of like a songfic. Okay, it IS a songfic. The song's 'A Thousand Miles' by Vanessa Carlton, if you didn't know, although I bet you did. It's also the song on the radio, again, if you didn't know; though a bet you did. The lyrics re surrounded by two asterisks like this: **  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter 12  
  
'The supreme happiness in life is the conviction that we are loved.'-- Victor Hugo  
  
The next day, things went back to normal. They went back to normal for a long time. Nora went on with life as it usually had, she read almost all the time, did all her homework, and occasionally did stupid things, like seeing how much cheese she could eat before she got sick. It was on one of these days that she, upon returning from the washroom, remembered that she had some library books that were due.  
  
She groaned and fell backwards onto her bed. Closing her eyes, she felt around with one hand and turned on the radio, while making a mental note to never EVER eat that much cheese again. For some reason (probably her cheese overdose), the classical music on the radio didn't do its usual job of relaxing her, so she flipped over onto her stomach and set about finding a new station. When she found a station she liked, she got onto her back again and sighed happily, slowly forgetting about her upset stomach. A new song was just about to start when she remembered the almost-due books, shoved them into a bag, ran downstairs, and grabbed a sandwich from the fridge, which she hadn't finished a few days ago. Without stopping even for breath, she jogged outside wishing she had stayed to listen to the radio. She liked that song.  
  
Nora locked the door and started running.  
  
**Making my way downtown  
  
Walking fast  
  
Faces passed  
  
And I'm home bound**  
  
~*~  
  
Ricky would have sighed, had not he been struggling for air. He had actually been looking forward to coming home, but no, his mom just HAD to give him the world's longest hug the moment she saw him. Now he had been back for two long hours, and his mother still had refused to break the embrace, talking about how much he had grown and how she had missed him.  
  
"Mom," he finally gasped. His mother loosened her grip on him.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I have to go now--"  
  
"You just got home!" she cried, placing her hands on her hips. "What could be so important?"  
  
He thought for a moment, hoping to come up with an excuse. No such luck. "I have to, er, see my girlfriend." He said very reluctantly. Why was it that when you didn't need them, good excuses just popped up in your head, but when you were actually in a situation you had to get out of, your mind went blank?  
  
His mother stared at him, tears slowly filling her eyes. "My little Ricky is growing up," she said, wrapping him in another tight hug.  
  
"Yeah, Mom, I've got to go," he panted, once again with a shortage of oxygen.  
  
"Alright," she said, smiling. "But come home soon, got that?"  
  
He forced himself not to roll his eyes. "Yes, mother..."  
  
As he headed for the door, he thought he heard music playing. He shook his head, trying to determine where it was coming from. For some reason, that seemed familiar, like déjà vu. Ricky shrugged and heard a few lines just before he closed the door.  
  
He headed for the library. Where else would she be?  
  
Well, she could be at home, the washroom, a bookstore, even a different city. What if she had moved?  
  
Somehow, that didn't seem right. Nora was the sort of person who hated change, and if she had moved, she probably would have sent him a letter ranting about this and that, how she never wanted to move again, and, oh, here's her new address. She had sent a few during the first two months of his sentence, but she had stopped after that. Ricky guessed she didn't have the time while going to school. Knowing Nora, she had probably overworked herself. But even if that were true, she would still have found the time to write him a letter saying she'd moved.  
  
So, pushing any doubt aside, he carried out his one and only plan, which was, needless to say, go to the library and if she wasn't there, walk around aimlessly.  
  
**Staring blankly ahead  
  
Just making my way  
  
Making my way  
  
Through the crowd** ~*~  
  
After Nora had returned the books, she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her stomach. How could she be hungry now? Well, she HAD emptied her stomach a few minutes ago. She reached into her bag and pulled out the sandwich, walking outside so she wouldn't get in trouble for eating in the library. Also, it was a nice day and why waste it?  
  
She unwrapped the sandwich and then remembered why she hadn't finished it before. It looked and smelled disgusting. Shuddering, she threw the sandwich out and got out the ever present 'Pride and Prejudice'. She skipped the beginning and went straight to chapter 34, reading the parts she had underlined. Then her eyes fell on a few sentences that had been circled, underlined three times, and highlighted.  
  
"I miss you, Ricky," she muttered to the book, which would have looked at her strangely had it been a person and not a novel. Nora sighed and smiled sadly. "I'm talking to inanimate objects. Not a good sign."  
  
She sighed again and put the book back in her had as she remembered her hunger, but it only occupied half of her mind. The other half was being depressed and wishing Ricky would just pop up out of thin air so she could see him again and tell him the whole 'I like your eyes' thing. She had never written it to him, because she thought it would sound better if she said it in person, but that plan, unfortunately, gave her a lot of regret and guilt to deal with.  
  
And to think, she thought, this is all because Anne has to go and give me the details on his eyes! I would be a lot better off if I never listened to her in the first place. Oh well, maybe if I hadn't listened to her, someone would have died a terrible death.  
  
"You never know," she muttered, her thoughts drifting back to Ricky.  
  
**And I need you  
  
And I miss you  
  
And now I wonder  
  
If I could fall  
  
Into the sky  
  
Do you think time  
  
Would pass me by  
  
'Cause you know I'd walk  
  
A thousand miles  
  
If I could  
  
Just see you  
  
Tonight**  
  
~*~  
  
When he entered the library, Ricky was sure that everything became quiet. Not that it wasn't quiet before, but now the silence seemed to be ringing in his ears. He craned his neck around bookshelves to check if she was there, but it appeared that she was somewhere else. Ricky couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. If Nora wasn't at the library, it seemed that she must have disappeared off the face of the Earth, unless she was at some other book-related place. Still, she should have been there. She just should have. Now he'd have to walk around aimlessly and that wasn't fun.  
  
Maybe she's moved and never told me, he thought miserable, kicking a rock across the ground after he left the library. Maybe she hates my guts and never wants to see me again. She probably never gives me a second thought. If anyone ever mentions Ricky, she just says 'Oh yeah, wasn't he that nerd I used to help in math because he was so stupid?'  
  
The thought that Nora would probably be eaten alive by Anne if she ever called someone a nerd as an insult never occurred to him.  
  
**It's always times like these  
  
When I think of you  
  
And I wonder  
  
If you ever  
  
Think of me  
  
'Cause everything's so wrong  
  
And I don't belong  
  
Living in your  
  
Precious memories**  
  
~*~  
  
Because deciding whether to go home or get fast food with the money she had in her pocket isn't the most exciting thing in the world, Nora started fantasizing about how she could get to that camp he was at, Camp Green Lake. She would save him from one of those yellow-spotted lizards she had read about, or maybe some criminal mastermind had captured him and she had to save him from an untimely death. When she finally noticed someone giving her sound effects (which mainly consisted of 'Boom!' and 'Zap!') strange looks, Nora quickly got out of her daydream and settled on fast food.  
  
As she swung the bag over her shoulder, she was struck with an awful thought. What if that had really happened? What if he was dying from a yellow-spotted lizard bite and she never got to see him again?  
  
Nora stopped herself from thinking up anymore ways for him to die and told herself that imagination was a good thing, but not if it was overdone.  
  
**'Cause I need you  
  
And I miss you  
  
And now I wonder....  
  
If I could fall  
  
Into the sky  
  
Do you think time  
  
Would pass me by  
  
'Cause you know I'd walk  
  
A thousand miles  
  
If I could  
  
Just see you  
  
Tonight**  
  
~*~  
  
Ricky was sure he saw someone far off in the distance who looked just like Nora, but she was too tall. He sighed and walked away from the library, but stopped when he saw half a sandwich in the garbage can. Why would someone throw out a perfectly good sandwich? Well, it was actually half a sandwich, but that didn't matter. It was a perfectly good half of a sandwich.  
  
He looked back again at the person who looked like Nora, only taller, then realised Nora could have grown. Or maybe she wasn't as short as he thought she was. Or maybe it was because she was so far off that she simply looked taller.  
  
For a moment he considered running after her, but she was too far away. She could be anyone, and he would look pretty stupid if he ran after a total stranger because she kind of looked like Nora.  
  
While this thought was running through his head, he saw someone reading 'Pride and Prejudice'. Ricky leaned against the wall and watched them as they walked into the library without looking up from their book. It was the sort of thing Nora would do. He grinned as he remembered how stupid he must have looked when he said Mr What's-his-name's speech. Maybe running after a total stranger wouldn't be so bad compared to that.  
  
He smiled. That book was probably the main reason she ever talked to him. Maybe, because he was so anti-social, Nora had seen a similarity between him and that Mr Darcy guy. He had never quite understood why Nora liked him, if she always described Mr Darcy as a 'rich, snobby, arrogant man' in her school projects and book reports. Of course, maybe he should have listened to the rest of what she said, because that might have answered.  
  
**And I, I  
  
Don't want to let you know  
  
I, I  
  
Drown in your memory  
  
I, I  
  
Don't want to let this go  
  
I, I  
  
Don't...**  
  
~*~  
  
Nora sat down in the McDonalds. Nothing like fries and a Coke to make you forget about... well, everything, actually. You usually concentrated on the food and how much fat it contained. The keyword there was 'usually'. 'Pride and Prejudice' was held open with one hand and the other was putting fries into her mouth.  
  
She remembered the book she had been reading in that exact spot when Anne decided to go bounce over to Ricky and say hi. 'A Walk to Remember'. The book still brought tears to her eyes, and the movie had been one of the few based on books that she liked, even though it was actually quite different from the book.  
  
Well, at least I know he's not dying of leukemia, right? She thought, then immediately went back to worrying.  
  
**Making my way downtown  
  
Walking fast  
  
Faces passed  
  
And I'm home bound**  
  
~*~  
  
Ricky returned to kicking a rock around. When he looked up to see where the pebble had led him, he realized he was standing in front of a McDonalds. Without so much as a second thought, he walked inside. Food was the answer to any problem.  
  
Can't sleep? Eat food.  
  
Bored out of your mind? Eat food.  
  
Feeling like no one appreciates you and considering jumping off a bridge? Eat food.  
  
As long as you like the food, that is. And Ricky was making sure he got a cheeseburger exactly the way he wanted it: little or no ketchup and pickles and extra tomatoes. With that in mind, he momentarily forgot about Nora, but only momentarily.  
  
When he got his cheeseburger, he lifted the top bun and began complaining loudly. Now he forgot about her a bit longer than momentarily.  
  
** Staring blankly ahead  
  
Just making my way  
  
Making my way  
  
Through the crowd**  
  
~*~  
  
Nora laughed so hard that her Coke came out her nose, almost spraying her book. Despite the fact that it wasn't a pleasant experience, she laughed again. Her nose was hurting badly, but she wasn't really paying attention to that. She rolled her eyes, still giggling a bit. Some guy was complaining about the amount of ketchup, pickles, and tomatoes on his cheeseburger.  
  
She stopped in mid-laugh. That guy sounded familiar. It couldn't be... No way. What were the chances of that? Nora fought the urge to look behind her. It was just her imagination, and from today's experience, she knew that her imagination could do quite a lot.  
  
But still... It could be him, she thought. Nora bit her lip and looked over her shoulder and back down at her fries so fast she might have gotten whiplash. Her heartbeat quickened and she sunk a bit in her chair, not knowing if she should be happy, sad, or mortified.  
  
**And I still need you  
  
And I still miss you  
  
And now I wonder  
  
If I could fall  
  
Into the sky  
  
Do you think time  
  
Would pass us by  
  
'Cause you know I'd walk  
  
A thousand miles  
  
If I could  
  
Just see you... **  
  
Someone tapped her on the shoulder. Nora let out a shriek that was somehow quiet. The only time she had ever done that before was when she had tripped that time in the library. Ricky had been there, in fact, he had been the reason she tripped. Whoever had done it before tapped on her shoulder again.  
  
Nora smiled and looked up. "Hi, Dick,"  
  
"Hi, Eleanora," grinned Ricky.  
  
"That's me." She had decided to give up on the name war. Ricky seemed a bit disappointed, but bent down and kissed her.  
  
"That was... awkward."  
  
"Maybe it wouldn't be if you were facing me and not stretching your neck over backwards," he pointed out.  
  
"Ah, that would do it." She got off of her chair and looked up at him. He was right. It wasn't as awkward that way. Of course, that had been pretty obvious. Had her skin tone been lighter, she would have turned bright red. Nora looked down at her shoes. "So..." She looked up again. "Still ardently love and admire me?"  
  
**If I could fall  
  
Into the sky  
  
Do you think time  
  
Would pass me by  
  
'Cause you know I'd walk  
  
A thousand miles  
  
If I could  
  
Just see you  
  
If I could  
  
Just hold you...**  
  
"Well," he seemed to be considering this. "I DID just walk around for almost an entire hour looking for you. I should think that I do."  
  
"Yep," Nora agreed. "That's a sure sign."  
  
Time seemed to slow down as Ricky bent down and she tilted her face slightly. When they kissed, 'Pride and Prejudice', which Nora had been holding tightly in one hand, fell to the floor.  
  
**Tonight**  
  
~*~  
  
Author's Note: Epilogue coming up soon. And now, to the shout outs.  
  
Bertiebottsgeorge- Thanks for your review! I give you sploosh! Yay for  
sploosh!  
  
Ghosts-girl23- Yeah, that's strange. I mean about the song. That happens a lot. Maybe it's a conspiracy. Maybe I should type longer sentences. Well, anyway, have... um... Well, everyone seems to be obsessed with Squid's toothpick, so want one? He's got quite a lot, you know. Thank for reviewing! MWAH!  
  
Celestra- I do that a lot. You know, reading and not reviewing. Anne sounds like you? Neato. She's a lot of fun to write about, because she gets to tell everybody random and slightly useless Canadian trivia and that sort of stuff. Well, here's some onions, you can give them to Mary Lou. You like her, right? Meh, I've gotta give up on giving out Holes stuff and stick to chai.  
  
Softish- Yay! Thanks for your review! You're the twenty-second reviewer! Be proud! Yeah, Max Kasch (the guy who played Zig in the movie) was a pretty good Zigzag. I'm not sure about hot, but I'm only attracted to fictional people. I am strange, I know. Want some sanity? I've grown it back, but I've heard it's entertaining to burn, but I'm pyrophobic. Have fun with it! 


	14. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I finished the story, I think I deserve not to write a funny disclaimer for this chapter/epilogue/thing.  
  
Author's Note: My mom found this and read it... and my dad read all the disclaimers (he's not exactly an avid reader...). That's scary. And my mom reviewed my one and only 'After Hamelin' fic. Yeah, she's Chubby Warrior. Well, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my mom, for reviewing and just plain making me feel good about my writing! Thanks, Mom!  
  
Anyway... 'Tis almost finished. I've got more than ¼ of 100 reviews! Thanks to you reviewers! I love you all to bits!  
  
And now... **drum roll** THE LAST CHAPTER!  
  
Well, it's actually the epilogue. But an epilogue is the last chapter. So ha.  
  
~*~  
  
Epilogue  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
Curse whoever said "Hey, instead of having women wear pants, we'll just wrap a piece of cloth around their waists and call it a skirt! Who cares if it makes it impossible to run, it'll be fashionable anyway!"  
  
Shall never wear a skirt again. Ever. If I do, I will die of my severe stupidity. Skirts are, along with corsets, the worst articles of clothing ever invented, created, and worn.  
  
Had to wear a skirt today. Evil, evil, evil washing machine. Or maybe it was my evil, evil, evil self. I really should have done the laundry, and then I would have a clean pair of pants to wear instead of this skirt. Ugh. I can't run, people can see my underwear, (why they would want to see MY underwear, of all the underwear to choose from, I do not know) and I can't sit properly. Not to mention that people are staring at me because I NEVER wear skirts. They just never leave me alone!  
  
No, wait, I'm a nerd, so they never leave me alone, anyway. At least it (their not leaving me alone-ness, I mean) wouldn't be because I was wearing this ACCURSED SKIRT! Why couldn't skirts be for men, instead? Then I would only wear pants and everything would be wonderful. Except the fact that I had no pants today, so then, with skirts absent, I'd have nothing to wear on my lower half, so I'd either have to wear my mom's pants of a pair of my own pants, but they'd be dirty. Maybe, if men wore skirts and women wore pants, I'd actually do my laundry, and then this problem would never have existed in the first place.  
  
On a happier note, Nora's got her dear Rickums back again. Ha. If she ever calls him that, I'll wet my pants (argh... skirt, actually) with glee. Of course, she calls him Ricky. Maybe it's because I refer to him as 'dear Rickums' too much. Well, anyway, he came back. She never told me, of course, but I could tell. Ellie had just been telling me that she had indigestion from eating too much cheese and really expressing herself using emoticons, (ah, the joys of instant messaging) which makes me question her intelligence, if she knows she's lactose intolerant. Back to the point, she logged off for awhile, then came back on later, and she said she felt better than ever, even though, the other times she had eaten that much cheese, she was in a bad mood for a few weeks after.  
  
Her parents must be cheese fiends, because she's an only child and not supposed to have that much cheese. I mean, honestly, she was telling me how she had Gouda, mozzarella, and cheddar. No one I know has that much cheese!  
  
Am I getting off-topic? Oh, right... I am. So, Ricky's back. About time, too, Nora's been going on about falling in love and all that junk. She can go on for hours about the time they kissed, but I was there, so I can describe it, too, but it only takes a few sentences at most. But, no, Nora describes the way he smelled, the exact colour his eyes were, including every speckle of imperfection (and she accused me of liking him for noticing their colour!). But that's nothing compared to his hair. I think that Nora feels it's her duty to report to us the condition, position, and location of every hair on his head. "One section was frizzier than the rest, sticking out more to the right, though it was on the left side of his head..." Sheesh. Maybe she'll be able to talk to him about that from now on. Let us hope so, or I will die of boredom, and not skirt-wearing or stupidity, which would allow myself to be wearing a skirt.  
  
Right, before I forget, I'd better write this down. Nora wants that little... thing I wrote about the "eye of the beholder". Apparently, she's going to use it as a prologue to her story she's writing out of boredom. What's she going to call it again? Oh, yeah. "Sense and Sanity". What a name. It's going to be about her and Ricky, no doubt, but I still don't get the title. Nora is anything but sensible (remember that she was the one who was complaining about indigestion from eating too much cheese, although she KNOWS she's lactose intolerant.) but she says that Ricky kind of has an obsession with his sanity. He's got paranoia or something. I think he's just got a paranoid personality disorder, since he didn't seem to be delusional or anything. Still, I think she's got to change the title around a bit. Why not call it, "My Big Tall Juvenile Delinquent Boyfriend"? Okay, okay, "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" didn't deserve that sort of title- mutilation, but neither did Jane Austen's books. After all, Nora's a big Jane Austen fan, you think she'd show a bit more respect to her. Well, I'm not Nora, so I can't stop her. It also helps that I'm in a different country.  
  
Once again, Nora is using all sorts of emoticons I didn't know existed. So, she's finally admitting to what happened. Nope, sorry. She's going on about Mr. Darcy. Same thing, though. "Mr. Darcy" is what she calls Ricky when she doesn't want anyone to know she's talking about him. A codeword, if you will. She has no clue how obvious it is. Oh well, I'm not going to tell her, it would take all the fun out of typing to her.  
  
Well, I'm about to fall asleep. Amazingly, Nora's still awake. No wonder why, though. "Mr. Darcy" did just come back. I still can't believe he actually quoted Mr. Darcy to get Nora to forgive him. Guess he really likes her.  
  
Okay! I'm going to bed this time, no more writing!  
  
G'night.  
  
-Anne  
  
~*~  
  
Tada! It's all over, folks. Be happy. Now, I'll finally get off my butt and finish 'Broken Hands and Withered Souls'! Yay!  
  
I might do a sequel. I have one all planned out, but I'm rewriting my plan. It got kind of Mary Sue-ish and cheesy at one point. And it won't be about Zigzag! It'll be about other stuff, which includes: culture clash, (I think that's what it's called...) misunderstandings, unrequited love, and discrimination. And, now, to the shout outs we all know and love.  
  
Celestra- Yay, another chai-lover! LOL. I knew you liked Mary Lou, because in your review of my story about Kate and Sam, 'I Can Fix That', you said 'But then again, I'm the person who thinks Mary Lou is awesome and just under-appreciated.' And at Willa's Holes Groupie, you said the same thing. I'm Bookworm, by the way. Yep. Thanks for reviewing and have some chai, my fellow chai-lover! (The fact that someone else knows what chai is makes me hyper...)  
  
Shae Elven Heart- Whoa, you've got a Ziggy plushie? I want one! My story made you cry? Aw, thanks a bunch! **hugs you** I advertised your website up there, see? Anyway, there's that chapter you wanted to see, up a little farther! Thanks for reviewing!  
  
Softish- Hey, you tried. You're only one off, right? And, yeah, I'm pyrophobic. Sad, ain't it? (Actually, I think the real word is 'arsonphobic' or something, but I'm too lazy to look it up.) Everyone's a pyromaniac nowadays, my friends, people I don't know, Zigzag, and even people on the Internet. The longest review you've ever written? I am proud! And you probably don't suck at writing, just look at that review! It's beautiful! Thanks a whole lot for your reviews, they made me happy!  
  
Ghosts-girl23- Thanks for reviewing and kill all smelly fish that walk!  
  
And to anyone else who might have read this and not reviewed: Thanks for taking the time to read this, and, no matter if you think this story is a pile of dung or actually pretty good, have a nice life! 


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